๐ท๐ถ๐ณ๐จ๐น๐ถ๐ฐ๐ซ๐บ & ๐ท๐ถ๐บ๐ป ๐ฐ๐ป ๐ต๐ถ๐ป๐ฌ๐บ .
it started with photographs . a love story played out on film strips . they say if you want to know what a person fears most , look at the things they photograph . kieran walsh , in one way or another , had always been evanโs muse . sheโd always preferred film . . . and sheโd always preferred keeping pieces of him , of their life together , private . so it started with photographs . hung on the walls of both of their apartments . . . and then the walls of their shared home . photos taken backstage or in the comfort of home . . . smiling photos with friends , reluctant photos of each other . if you laid it all out , you could see the progression of friends to more . some of them never make it to the walls . photographs were slipped into a book on evanโs bedside table or snuck into the empty spaces of kieranโs wallet .ย
a picture is worth a thousand words , but kieran walsh preferred a more traditional language . . . and even after quite some time together , she was still learning .ย
and so it became post - it notes . stuck to the back of his phone when she left him in the morning , placed on the mirror backstage at a show , left behind when they would be apart for days , weeks , months at a time . somewhere in the back of her mind , she knew she could just text him good morning . . . but just as she preferred polaroids to iphone snaps , she liked being able to slow down for a moment . to smile to herself and think about him .ย
itโs small . silly , even . and yet . . . it bridges the gap between opposite schedules . it makes the distance seem a little more manageable . physical reminders that sheย lovesย him . that she will always love him .
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